ATF: BaBoom
by chronicler-of-knuckles
Summary: J.D. and Buck discuss which wire to cut.


TITLE: Ba-Boom  
  
AUTHOR: The Chronicler  
  
RATING: G  
  
UNIVERSE: ATF  
  
CHALLENGE: W.O.W. 03-22-04 -- IMPACT  
  
SUMMARY: Buck and J.D. discuss which wire to cut.  
  
ARCHIVE: Sure thingy.  
  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
  
EMAIL: chronicler_of_knuckles@yahoo.com  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ba-Boom  
  
By The Chronicler  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You sure you want to do that?" J.D. whispered over his partner's shoulder.  
  
Buck froze, his wire clippers only a hair's breath from cutting a very fragile wire leading from one part to another. His hands as steady as stone, he slowly turned his head until he was nose to nose with J.D. His eyes narrowed as he tried to think of something appropriately painful to say.  
  
Getting the idea, J.D. smiled an a apology, scooting back just slightly.  
  
The ATF bomb expert took a deep breath, before returning his attention to the matter at hand. With the slightest of muscle contractions, the clippers gently laid blade to wire.  
  
"I mean.... shouldn't it be the red one? Or blue?" J.D. asked.  
  
Again, his partner froze. "J.D...." he started in a hissed whisper.  
  
"I know.... sorry." Pause. "But who ever heard of purple wires? There's nothing about purple wires in the manuals. What kinda of nut case puts one of these things together with all purple wires? How does he know which wire will do what if they're all purple? I mean..."  
  
"Agent Dunne!" Buck snapped, instantly wincing when he felt his muscles tense with frustration.  
  
"Sorry."   
  
Buck sighed, allowing his eyes to close for a moment. "J.D. I know you're nervous. I know you want to help. I appreciate that. Really, I do. But, maybe you should wait outside."  
  
"No way! I'm not leaving you in here to face this alone!" J.D. hurriedly assured. "I'm your partner!"  
  
"Gee." Buck opened his eyes and focused on the task. It'd do less damage if he did cut the wrong wire than if he told the kid just what he had to say on the subject of partnership just right now.  
  
Once more his fingers moved with painful slowness, squeezing the blades, cutting through the insulation around the wire.  
  
"Purple!"  
  
Buck dropped his head with a groan.  
  
"What sort of color is that?" J.D. continued, waving a hand through the air. "Things go boom, and the last color you see is purple. What a way to go! Purple! Guess it's better than pink, but... come on... purple?"  
  
"That's it. No more fruit loops in our house! And all those other sugar loaded cereals... out!" Buck growled. "Dry toast from now on."  
  
J.D. leaned back, frowning. "Those are your cereals. I just have coffee in the mornings."  
  
"Quadruple espresso, extra caffeine, thick french vanilla, mocha, this and that..." Buck shook his head. "Dry toast and water... milk! You're a growing boy. You need your milk."  
  
His young partner blinked. "It's just coffee plus."  
  
"Coffee plus." he huffed. "Well, it has its impact! You have the jitters. An' you're giving them to me!" He glared over his shoulder at him. "This thing is like two seconds away from going boom!"  
  
J.D. stepped back. "Boom?"  
  
"Ba-boom!"  
  
J.D. flashed a shaky smile. "Think I'll wait in the other room... Just, um, holler if you... you know... need anything? Coffee maybe?" He frowned. "Maybe not."   
  
Buck smiled. "Maybe not." he agreed. He almost laughed at how quickly J.D. ran from the room.  
  
Outside, J.D. buried his hands in his pockets and shivered.  
  
Chris and the remainder of ATF Team seven was just coming up the steps. "How's it going, kid?" Chris asked. "What are ya doin' out here?"  
  
J.D. shrugged, but, before he could explain, a loud sizzling sound came from inside, closely followed by a sharp cry of pain and a crash.  
  
J.D. winced.  
  
The front door of his and Buck's home opened and a slightly fried looking Buck Wilmington stepped out. His teeth chattering, he glanced at J.D. "I...I...I Hate... Ppppurppple!" he stuttered. Pushing his way pass his team mates he stumbled toward the steps, clinging to the rail.  
  
Frowning, the five men watched him go, then turned to J.D.   
  
J.D. shrugged. "Guess we're gonna have to watch the game on someone else's T.V."   
  
~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
